


Ho, Ho, Ho

by S_Faith



Series: My Own Little Sub-Universe [20]
Category: Bridget Jones's Diary - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2019-11-24 20:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18169691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Faith/pseuds/S_Faith
Summary: When one receives a new Mrs-Claus-style nightie for the holidays, one must try it out as soon as possible.





	Ho, Ho, Ho

**Author's Note:**

> Naughty follow-up to "[Under The Tree](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18169601)". 
> 
> Disclaimer: Some things are Helen's. Some are mine. I think it's clear which is which.

Christmas Day had been a very long day, made longer still by holiday activities, entertaining relatives and feeding all and sundry with heaps of food, then sending them on their way (or off to their guest rooms) to spend time alone as a family in front of the tree and the fireplace. Now even the toddler was in bed. She was ready to fall into bed as an exhausted heap, but there was one more thing she had to do.

Not that she thought of it as a chore, by any means.

She slipped into the nightie, luxurious red silk with white fake fur trim along the bottom edge. She also put on the matching pants (unnoticed previously, attached to an inner hem) which were barely pants at all, thong-style, a strip of red silk with white faux fur around her hips and a pair of white fur pompoms dangling down over and tickling her bottom. She then brushed her hair down around her shoulders, inspecting herself in the bathroom mirror, smoothing down the silky fabric, the furred hem sweeping against her thigh. She tapped a bit of powder onto her face and put a little lip gloss on, then, satisfied that she looked more than presentable, she turned to go back out into the bedroom. _With any luck, he hasn't dozed off_ , she mused.

He had not. He sat on the edge of the bed, the corner of the sheets and duvet turned down. In fact, his expression as she emerged from the loo was not just appreciative, but eager. He stood.

"What do you think?" she asked, turning in a circle, the light fabric lifting up in a swirl around her until she stopped.

"Ho, ho, ho," he purred throatily, reaching to take her hand. "Come here, darling."

She came closer and only noticed then that he was wearing the most ridiculous pair of boxers ever, though it should not have surprised her: they were emblazoned with a pattern of that same reindeer's face that had once had appeared on his jumper. She couldn't help but laugh a little; she had given them to him the previous year as a bit of a joke.

"Have you been wearing these all day?" she asked.

"Of course," he said stoically. "Holiday spirit."

"How did I not know this?"

"No matter," he said, pulling her into his arms. "They're not staying on much longer."

"Ooh," she said; she was about to add a clever quip about how she was losing her touch because she hadn't jumped him in the loo or in the kitchen all day in order to have previously seen his boxers, but it was then he lowered his head to kiss her and such silliness was forgotten.

He moved his hands to her waist, and the feel of his warm hands through the sheer silk made her gasp. She drew her hands up and over his shoulders, to his neck then to rake her nails through his hair.

"After all of this time with you," he said quietly, breaking away to kiss her temple, "I want you as much as ever."

" _Very_ glad to hear it," she said playfully as she sighed. He brought her up against him, placing his mouth upon her neck, grazing his teeth over the skin there. His fingers went to the bottom hem of the nightie, just under her arse, then nudged it up. As his nails brushed over her bottom, his fingers moved to cup then gently squeeze it. The motion of his hands caused the pompoms to sway; they breezed against her skin and caused her to shiver a little.

Her own fingers hovered at the waistband of his boxers, and as he continued, she very decidedly pushed them down over the curve of his arse so that she could trace her own nails over his skin. He shuddered and groaned, the desired effect.

"As I was saying," he murmured, his fingers tracing up over the fur along her hips. His thumbs hooked through the waist, then brought it down over her hips. The sensation of the fur passing over her skin made her shiver again.

His boxers dropped to the floor shortly thereafter with her assistance; the state of his arousal required it. "As you were saying, indeed," she said, brushing her fingers over him, causing him to make a low sound in his throat. Their eyes were engaged, and without words they turned together so that she felt the mattress behind her.

"Feeling adventurous?" she asked.

"No," he growled, lifting her up and onto the edge of the bed. He then pulled her knees apart, his fingers lingering then tracing up her legs. "I know what I want and don't need anything more than tried and true methods to get there."

She smirked. "At least you're not bored," she said.

"Bored?" he said in a low voice, making her gasp with the feel of his fingertips on her inner thigh. "Not in a million years."

"No exaggeration— _oh_ ," she began, then stopped, distracted by the flitting touch between her legs.

"Indeed," he said, leaning forward, his other hand on her arse again. "How could I ever be bored with you?" His hand came up to tease her breast through the silk as he leaned into her to kiss her, then went with the other to hold her waist before moving up along her spine; she lifted her legs up and dug her heels into the backs of his thighs.

She brought her hands down his chest, her fingers lingering briefly on his hips before tracing across his abdomen. She then released her hold of him around his legs, pressing upon his hips with her hands again.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she said. "You're just too close."

"That is rather the point," he said drolly.

"You'll see," she said. As he stepped away, she turned to lie on her stomach, then looked back at him over her shoulder. 

"What's this?" he asked.

"Well, if you're a reindeer and all," she said, "then… well, you know."

He smirked, but did not look away from her bared bottom. "Are you suggesting…"

"Reindeer-style," she said with a smirk of her own. She was only half-kidding; she did fancy a different position than usual that night, and she knew he didn't mind making love from behind even if he usually preferred face-to-face in order to capture her sounds of passion with his mouth.

As he stepped forward again, as she felt his hands on her backside, she knew he was game even if she was being silly. Her lids drooped as his fingers touched her sensitive inner thigh, moving upwards as he leaned against her and over her. She felt his breath on her neck. "Want you," he muttered as his fingers dipped into her. She said nothing in response, but the resulting moan told him all he needed to know, if the wetness between her legs hadn't been indication enough.

He withdrew his fingers; she knew what this meant, and she arched her back and stretched her arms forward in anticipation. He grasped her hips and with a quick motion forward he drove into her. She moaned once more, clutching the bed sheets tight in her grasp.

With every thrust his hands moved slightly higher up and under the nightie as he leaned a little bit further forward, until they met their destination and cupped her breasts. With his weight resting on his elbows, with his fingers massaging circles into her hardened nipples, he continued to move again and again, each thrust seemingly harder than the last. She knew her cries were escalating, equalling the guttural sounds and grunts he was making, but she could not control herself. Between the exquisite, near-painful pleasure of the pressure on her nipples and the feel of him moving within her, her approach to climax was steep and accelerated. With a final cry it overtook her, muscles tensing then releasing as he continued his motion. When he groaned and grasped her breasts again, pulling her up into his downward motion, she knew he was going to come. She arched again and squeezed her legs around his as best she could, triggering his release.

"Darling," he moaned as he slid to the bed beside her, grasping her face with an unsteady hand and devouring her with a kiss. She sighed contentedly, smiling, then laughing a little, as she turned to trace her nails along his hip.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I won't be able to tell anyone what my favourite Christmas present was," she said throatily.

"You could," he said with a smirk, "but you'd get rather shocked looks, I wager." He brushed his hand down over the silk covering her side and hip. "Come on. Let's get under the covers. I'm not going to be able to keep my eyes open much longer."

They scooted around to rest on their pillows and with the duvet ensconcing them, with Mark spooned up to her back, she could sympathise with his fatigue. "I bet we'll get shocked looks anyway," she murmured. "Your uncle's not quite deaf yet."

She heard him laugh a little, saying, "Oh, God."

………

Boxing Day morning was uneventful, save a wry comment from Mark's paper-reading, coffee-sipping uncle, who did not look up when he said: "I fail to understand how you two don't have sixteen children by now."

_The end._


End file.
